Middlemarch - April CC Book Club Selection

[mathmom]

I just downloaded the “Middlemarch for Bookclubs” to my Kindle. It begins, "A feww years ago, a widely-circulated online article claimed “Middlemarch kills book clubs.” I trust that won’t happen to us!

I do encourage anyone to watch the BBC miniseries. It’s very well cast and I haven’t actually noticed any big discrepencies from the book. (I’ve watched 4 out of the 7 episodes.)

[Mary13]

@ignatius and @stradmom, thanks for both the maps. Those were fun to look at!

@@jerseysouthmomchess

I watched the BBC series, and must say a nice break from 2020.

I’ve watched the first two episodes so far. I think it’s very well cast. Will Ladislaw! Oh, those eyes. No wonder little old Henrietta Noble had a crush on him.

@ignatius

I’d forgotten how cynically funny Eliot could be.

I underlined several comments in the book that made me laugh, but here’s one from near the end (Lydgate to Rosamond):

He once called her his basil plant; and when she asked for an explanation, said that basil was a plant which had flourished wonderfully on a murdered man’s brains.

[Caraid]

I’m not done yet, but getting closer! I watched the first episode of the BBC series and really enjoyed it. I will start watching the rest of it once I finish
the book. I agree that the casting was well done.

[AnAsmom]

I’m just lurking for now. I tried to start the book several times last month but I couldn’t keep my mind on the project. I haven’t finished a book in 4 weeks — my mind keeps wandering. My extended family is spread out around the globe and quite a few are in hotspots so I just can’t stop worrying.
I’m hoping that reading all your posts will be the impetus I need. ?

[garland]

I’m embarrassed to say that as one of the Middlemarch champions, I’m only about a quarter of the way through. But I know the plot and characters really well, and can keep up a conversation, from previous readings. And will move onward to finish as fast as I can. As I have said to others, the beginning is slower, and it picks up. I’m in Rome now.

I’m glad people noticed her sense of humor. I’m reading a fresh copy with pen in hand to catch good lines and where characters come in (it’s like I’m back in grad school!)

@Mary13 – don’t know if you knew this, but the pot of basil line is an allusion to this Keats poem:
https://www.college.columbia.edu/core/content/isabella-or-pot-basil-john-keats-1818

[Mary13]

@AnAsmom, I hope your family stays safe and healthy.

Anyone who hasn’t finished the book–or even started it–please hang around and join us for discussion anyway. We could could all use a little distraction, and the more the merrier.

There are scads of discussion questions online for Middlemarch. As always, you can take 'em or leave 'em, but I like to post some because they usually remind me of a passage or incident that I want to bring up.

For starters, here’s a set from Lit Lovers:

1. Marriage is a central concern in the novel. Does it portray marriage as a source of happiness in life? Or does it suggest that personal happiness comes from some other source?

1. Compare the various couplings with one another: Dorothea's failed marriage with that of her sister. Or the Lydgate and the Garth marriages. In what way do they suggest differing approaches to marriage? Does Elliot offer a model union?
2. Dorothea at one point says of marriage...

“I mean, marriage drinks up all of our power of giving or getting any blessedness in that sort of love. I know it may be very dear—but it murders our marriage—and then the marriage stays with us like a murder—and everything else is gone.”

What is she suggesting about romantic love and marriage? Is there any truth in her remark, or is this simply the rambling of a distraught woman?

1. How does the novel portray Dorothea Brooke and Tertius Lydgate as the heroes in this work? In what ways do they differ from the others in the cultural milieu of Middlemarch? What drives each of them? Are they similar?
2. Others in the novel also serve as models for virtue: members of the Garth family and Camden Farebrother, for instance? In what way can they be seen as secondary heroes of Middlemarch? Any others?
3. Does Rosamond elicit sympathy from you? She is vain, of course, but might her upbringing be somewhat responsible for her faults? In what way does she represent the prevalent societal norms?
4. The narrator is a very funny and wry satirist. Dorothea, for example, is passionate about horseback riding yet eager to renounce it, because in sacrificing her pleasure, she will prove her devotion to Christianity. What or who else do you find humorous in the novel? And what is she satirizing?
5. What do you think of Camden Farebrother, especially his gambling? Is it wrong? What makes him successful at gambling, as compared to Fred Vincy?
6. What about Mary Garth's refusal to burn the second will after Featherstone's death. What would you have done?
7. Talk about how social conventions, based on money and class, affect the behavior and relationships in this novel. In what way does this novel challenge those conventions? What does the novel champion...and what does it condemn?
8. What symbolic (as well as literal) role does the portrait of Ladislaw's grandmother play in the novel? Why does Dorothea offer it to Ladislaw as a parting gift...why does he refuse the offer...and what does his refusal suggest?
9. What do the main characters learn by the novel's end? Do either Dorothea or Lydgate get the life they deserve?
10. What roles do Raffles and Nicholas Bulstrode play? Look at Raffles as representing the past...as well as chance or coincidence.
11. Middlemarch, the town, is almost a character in itself. In what sense does Elliot use the idea of community? Does she portray it as antithetical to human freedom—in that it judges, restricts, or interferes in its inhabitants lives? Or is it presented as a positive force—in that it offers moral guidance, friendship, and solace?
12. View clips of the excellent 1994 BBC miniseries and compare to the book.

https://www.litlovers.com/reading-guides/fiction/7864-middlemarch-eliot?start=3

[Mary13]

The resource @mathmom mentioned, “Middlemarch for Book Clubs,” has questions for every chapter, so I’ll post those as we go as “memory joggers” for how the story progressed. Also, many of the questions are just interesting in themselves and capture things about the book that I completely missed.

Here are the questions for the Prelude and Book I:

Prelude

1. The story of Saint Theresa is clearly set up as a keynote for the novel. What are its crucial elements? What ideal does Saint Theresa embody? What obstacles does she face, and how are her aspirations fulfilled? What’s different for “later-born Theresas”?

2.What’s the overall tone of the Prelude?If (like the title and subtitle) it teaches us something about how to read the novel, what’s the lesson here? What are we set up to expect (or fear, or hope) for the characters we meet?

1. The Prelude is our first meeting with the narrator of Middlemarch. So far, how would you characterize her*? What kind of relationship does she establish with us here? As you read on, be aware that one of her favorite tricks is to use free indirect discourse – that is, to channel other characters’ points of view through her own voice. She’s also prone to irony: you might notice an ironic inflection here, for instance, in the lines about levels of “feminine incompetence.”

• It’s important not to confuse the narrator with the author, and there’s no particular reason to assume the narrator is either male or female – but in that case, a male pronoun is no more the obvious choice. I prefer to use a female pronoun partly because I don’t see why ‘male’ should be the default.

Book I: Miss Brooke

1. Here and throughout, don’t skip over the epigraphs: they provide clues (if sometimes oblique or obscure ones) to each chapter’s major themes. A particularly good one is the quotation from Don Quixote at the top of Chapter 2: how does the epigraph illuminate the events of that chapter? Who in the chapter turns out to be “Quixotic,” and who’s the realist? Is either one of them right?
2. “Book I: Miss Brooke” comes immediately after the Prelude, and the juxtaposition inevitably suggests parallels. Is Dorothea a “later-born Theresa”? What are her ideals and aspirations? How do her circumstances support or hinder their realization? How does the Prelude prepare us to read her character and her story?
3. One of the ways we get to know Dorothea is by comparison — to her sister Celia, for instance. What are some of the similarities between Dorothea and Celia? How are they different — and how are those differences reflected in their dress, their speech, and their actions? What do we learn about them from the scene in Chapter I in which they divide up their mother’s jewels?
4. “Signs are small measurable things,” remarks the narrator, “but interpretations are illimitable.” This principle applies to many aspects of Book I (and, indeed, to the whole novel), but the varying interpretations of Mr. Casaubon provide an especially good case study. He is seen very differently by different characters, including not just Dorothea and Celia but also Mr. Brooke, Sir James Chettam, and (memorably) Mrs. Cadwallader. What do these characters’ views of Mr. Casaubon reveal about them? What do we actually know about Mr. Casaubon’s own point of view? What are other scenes that highlight problems of (mis)interpretation?
5. Mr. Casaubon’s proposal is both hilarious and ominous. What accounts for Dorothea’s response, especially when it seems so obvious to us (and to nearly everyone else in the novel) that she’s making a terrible mistake? What does her choice say about the big issues of idealism, aspiration, and vocation raised by the Prelude and explored in our introduction to Dorothea in Chapter 1?

[Mary13]

@garland, thank you for the link to the Keats poem! I had no idea. The things I learn from you people… Makes the line from the book even funnier, of course.

[Mary13]

1. The story of Saint Theresa is clearly set up as a keynote for the novel. What are its crucial elements? What ideal does Saint Theresa embody? What obstacles does she face, and how are her aspirations fulfilled? What’s different for “later-born Theresas”?

If you read the very first sentence of Middlemarch and said, “huh?”, you were probably not alone. Here is that sentence for those who might not have the novel handy, or flung it out the window in despair:

Who that cares much to know the history of man, and how the mysterious mixture behaves under the varying experiments of Time, has not dwelt, at least briefly, on the life of Saint Theresa, has not smiled with some gentleness at the thought of the little girl walking forth one morning hand in hand with her still smaller brother to go and seek martyrdom in the country of the Moors?

Here is the story behind that episode, in 21st century language:

When she was seven-years-old, Teresa convinced her older brother that they should “go off to the land of the Moors and beg them, out of love of God, to cut off our heads there.” They got as far as the road from the city before an uncle found them and brought them back. Some people have used this story as an early example of sanctity, but this author think it’s better used as an early example of her ability to stir up trouble.
St. Teresa of Avila - Saints & Angels - Catholic Online

Dorothea is definitely a “later-born Teresa,” although she doesn’t get the chance to stir up as much trouble as the original. Dorothea’s unconventional spirit is kept in check, first by Mr. Causabon, then by Sir James Chettam, then by–as much as we might like him–Will Ladislaw. Marriage to Will keeps Dorothea from becoming a sort of feminist Lady Bountiful.

Still, she shares many qualities with St. Theresa. From the bio linked to above:

To her, spiritual life was an attitude of love, not a rule. Although she proclaimed poverty, she believed in work, not in begging. She believed in obedience to God more than penance. If you do something wrong, don’t punish yourself – change. When someone felt depressed, her advice was that she go some place where she could see the sky and take a walk. When someone was shocked that she was going to eat well, she answered, “There’s a time for partridge and a time for penance.” To her brother’s wish to meditate on hell, she answered, “Don’t.”

I think Dorothea’s spirituality evolved during the course of the novel, from valuing small penances (like giving up horseback riding) to realizing that the more loving and productive course was to give (and forgive) generously rather than to sacrifice earthly pleasures.

Also, like Dorothea, St. Teresa was the subject of local gossip, which she found irksome. As the story goes, in a “conversation” with Jesus, she complained about this and about the other trials she endured, and he told her, “Teresa, that’s how I treat my friends.” She responded, “No wonder you have so few friends.”

A spiritual dialogue that I think George Eliot would have appreciated.

[Caraid]

I still haven’t finished, but will respond @Mary13 's comments about Dorothea’s spirituality. I agree, at the start of the book her religion was rote, more believing what she thought she needed to believe, rather than any real and deep spiritual expression. As she matured, her beliefs also matured. Her sprituality gained thought, experience, and some self reflection. She is a great character. I am eagerly reading to find out what her future holds.

[ignatius]

Poor Dorothea - as a “later-born Theresa” meaningful outlets for her desired life of spirituality seem limited. She has yet to view a life of doing good among her neighbors as worthy, and she can’t exactly “go and seek martyrdom in the country of the Moors.” As a young woman living near Middlemarch in the early 1800s, Dorothea is just not destined to lead an epic life.

Until … uh oh … Dorothea mistakenly envisions a life of mental and spiritual growth through marriage with Mr. Casaubon. In the case of Saint Teresa and her younger brother, “… domestic reality met them in the shape of uncles, and turned them back from their great resolve.” Dorothea too has an uncle, but Mr. Brooke neglects his duty per usual. Though neighbors implore him to halt the marriage, reminding him that Dorothea is not yet of age, he takes the path of least resistance. I wanted to shout at Dorothea in his stead to stop, just stop.

In Mr. Casaubon’s defense, he has no idea that he marries “a later-born Theresa.”

[Mary13]

@ignatius

In Mr. Casaubon’s defense, he has no idea that he marries “a later-born Theresa.”

True. After the engagement, Mr. Casaubon feels “that heaven had vouchsafed him a blessing in every way suited to his peculiar wants” (p. 51). Ah well, marriage is full of surprises (as we see so often in this novel).

The author does want us to feel sympathy for Mr. Casaubon–he’s not a bad man, after all; at least not initially – “a man of honor according to the code…unimpeachable by any recognized opinion.” But jealousy and, I would say, a genuine puzzlement about Dorothea’s judgment lead him to do an unkind thing (although he convinces himself that it’s kind in the long run).

[Mary13]

4. How does the novel portray Dorothea Brooke and Tertius Lydgate as the heroes in this work? In what ways do they differ from the others in the cultural milieu of Middlemarch? What drives each of them? Are they similar?

Do you think of Lydgate as a hero? I don’t, not really. He’s a good doctor and a good man, but I don’t think he does anything truly extraordinary (to earn the title “hero”). I do think he and Dorothea are alike, in that they are both ambitious and want to upend the status quo. But she has a personal ambition – she strives to be deeply and purely good, to look beyond her own desires; whereas he has a professional ambition – he wants to be great, the doctor responsible for a historic advancement in medicine. “He was ambitious of a wider effect, he was fired with the possibility that he might work out the proof of an anatomical conception and make a link in the chain of discovery.”

Did you ever wonder what kind of a match Lydgate and Dorothea would have made? I feel like it would have been the marriage of true minds. He doesn’t think much of her at first --“Miss Brooke was not Mr. Lydgate’s style of woman”–but Eliot hints early on how that will change: “But Lydgate was less ripe and might possibly have experience before him which would modify his opinion as to the most excellent things in woman” (p. 93).

[ignatius]

@Mary13

Eliot hints early on how that will change: “But Lydgate was less ripe and might possibly have experience before him which would modify his opinion as to the most excellent things in woman” (p. 93).

Talk about an excellent example of foreshadowing!

[mathmom]

Yes, I also thought Lydgate and Dorothea would have made a much better pairing. I thought they were both supposed to be examples of St. Theresa’s who never reached their potential. Lydgate’s marriage doomed him. Dorothea’s story is a bit more complicated because on the one hand marriage at first stifled her, then set her free(ish), but her ambitions were too big for her pocketbook. Ironically, perhaps Ned and Mary left more of a legacy (in the form of literature at least) than either Lydgate or Dorothea.

The question of the narrator intrigues me, because in the TV series you only hear her at the end. But I wondered how many people who read Middlemarch would have known that George Eliot was a pseudonym? To me it seems obvious that she is a woman, but would it have been equally obvious to a contemporary reader?

Edited to add: If Wikipedia can be believed it looks like the secret was out before Middlemarch, although I don’t know if the average reader would have known.

[Mary13]

There are about as many books to Middlemarch as there are days in our discussion, so I’ll post the questions for one chapter (in order) every day. If nothing else, they help place the chronology of events.

I laughed at the wording of #6 below. I would have to be quarantined at home for at least another month before considering that exercise a “fun experiment.”

BOOK II: OLD AND YOUNG

1. We learn a lot about Dr. Lydgate in Chapter 15. Is Lydgate another example of a ‘later-born Theresa’? How is his story like or unlike Dorothea’s? What do we learn about him from the incident with Laure?
2. Chapter 15 contains some pointed remarks about the role we (yes, you and I) play in people’s failures. Indeed, the narrator of Middlemarch uses the first-person plural pretty often throughout the novel. How does it affect you to be drawn into the novel in this way? How do you think this strategy serves the larger purposes of the novel?
3. What parallels do you notice between Lydgate and Rosamond’s courtship and Dorothea and Casaubon’s?
4. When Lydgate casts his vote in Chapter 18, it’s a pivotal moment in his relationship with Bulstrode and with the town of Middlemarch — and perhaps also in our understanding of his character and situation. What does Lydgate (and what do we) learn from this episode? Do you think Lydgate made the right decision? Do you think there is a right decision?
5. How does Dorothea’s view of Mr. Casaubon change during their honeymoon? What are the consequences — moral or otherwise — of her new perspective?
6. Chapters 19-21 are great examples of Eliot’s manipulation of chronology in the novel. Here’s a fun experiment: list the following events first in the order that we are told about them, then in the order that they “actually” happen:

i. Dorothea and Casaubon go to Rome for their honeymoon

ii. Dorothea cries in her apartment in Rome

iii. Naumann points Dorothea out to Will

iv. Naumann sees Dorothea in the Vatican

v. Dorothea goes to the Vatican

vi. Will visits Dorothea in her apartment

vii. Dorothea quarrels with Casaubon

Why mess with chronology this way? What structural problem is Eliot trying to solve? How does the treatment of time in the novel compare to the treatment of point of view?

1. We meet yet more people in Book II — and meet some people again. What do you think about Mr. Bulstrode? Reverend Farebrother? Will Ladislaw? Have your reactions to any characters changed substantially since Book I? If so, have *they* changed, or have you?

[Mary13]

3. What parallels do you notice between Lydgate and Rosamond’s courtship and Dorothea and Casaubon’s?

Both Lydgate and Dorothea are blind – fooled into believing that their betrotheds are better (or smarter) people than they actually are. Dorothea mistakes Casaubon’s plodding scholarship for brilliance, and Lydgate mistakes the allure of beauty and sexual attraction for love. George Eliot has another delightfully twisted sentence to describe the different ways Rosamond and Lydgate view their inevitable engagement:

Circumstance was almost sure to be on the side of Rosamond’s idea, which had a shaping activity and looked through watchful blue eyes, whereas Lydgate’s lay blind and unconcerned as a jelly-fish which gets melted without knowing it (p. 265).

Also, the narrator notes that Lydgate ends up engaged to Rosamond because he is “very warm-hearted and rash.” The same could be said of Dorothea and her too-quick decision to marry Mr. Casaubon.

[bookworm]

I’m only a third thru the book. Ever since the world changed, it’s been hard to read books. I think I was turned off because I didn’t like nor identify with any of the characters. Dorothea and Rosalind both had more flaws than not. Mr. casaubon was clearly a poor choice,.

[mathmom]

@Mary13

I laughed at the wording of #6 below. I would have to be quarantined at home for at least another month before considering that exercise a “fun experiment.”

LOL. I love that sort of question! When an author starts playing games with chronology, or typefaces or other structural things my antennas go up and I want to know what they thought they were accomplishing. I don’t have time today to figure this one out, but I will come back to it!

One of the things that struck me about this book was that I would have loved reading it in high school, because it presents so many possibilities for meaty essays.

[Caraid]

I finally finished! I’m not sure how much of the details I’ll be able to pull out, but in looking at the overall story, I really enjoyed it. When I got to the last chapter, I wasn’t sure how the author was going to be able to sum it all up. It seemed like there was still a good amount of story to tell, but Eliot did it. I was satisfied.